


worthy of praise

by zeekubeast



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Sex in a Church, Trans Claude von Riegan, Vaginal Fingering, flirting poorly disguised as philosophical banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeekubeast/pseuds/zeekubeast
Summary: Claude and Lorenz make out in the ruins of the Cathedral in Garreg Mach, and then some.





	worthy of praise

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @aydiosmiopls 's art on twitter. They ended up posting their own fic before I had this finished, but it's not like the world suffers if there are TWO fics of claurenz making out in a church.

The sun was setting over Garreg Mach, the last triumphant rays spilling through what remained of the stained glass windows into the cathedral, still in ruins.

A terrible loss, Claude thought to himself as he sat on a wooden pew. The windows would never quite be the same as they once were, even if it were possible to find every shard of glass and return them to their place. Such was the destruction of war... No matter the outcome of it, no matter how much they rebuilt, they would never be able to truly recover what was lost.

“There you are.” The voice of Lorenz interrupted his reverie. Claude turned his head to watch the man approach.

“Lorenz,” Claude said in surprise. “What brings you here?”

“I could ask you the very same,” Lorenz replied. “I hardly believed it when Marianne said she had seen you going to the Cathedral, but I suppose even someone like you cannot avoid the Goddess's comfort forever.” The jab was half-hearted at best. Claude gave a wry smile.

“I was thinking about the windows, actually.”

“The... windows?”

“Yes. Here—sit with me a while, won't you?” Claude waved a gloved hand, offering the place beside him on the pew. Lorenz raised an impeccably groomed eyebrow, but accepted the invitation without comment.

“I was just thinking how uncaring the passage of time is of human hearts,” Claude mused. “Even if we found every shard of glass from these windows, we would never be able to erase the fact that they had been shattered. There are some things that can just never be repaired. It's disheartening, if you think about it.”

Lorenz rested his chin against the palm of his hand, eyeing Claude carefully. “And I suppose you think the ruins of Garreg Mach an apt metaphor for the state of Fódlan?”

“Oh no, nothing so banal, Sir Lorenz,” Claude said with a mock-pout. “I'm simply mourning the loss of priceless art. Fódlan is nothing so static as that. It's more like a garden, ravaged by disease. With careful tending, we'll make it flourish once again, and greater than before.”

Lorenz shook his head, but couldn't hide his smile. “Your poetry is still atrocious, Claude. But that sentiment is why I trust in your ability to forge a new dawn for us all.”

Claude let out a bark of surprised laughter. It echoed loudly through the vaulted halls of the Cathedral, spooking a flock of birds into flight.

“Ah, sorry—” Claude whispered, lowering his voice. He leaned back against the pew with a smile. “Keep saying things like that, Lorenz, and I might end up thinking you like me.”

Lorenz leaned in to murmur, "Is there any evidence to the contrary?" A quiet smile on his lips.

“Hmm… House Gloucester has been a longstanding rival to House Riegan in terms of influence within the Alliance, hasn't it? That would be reason enough for some,” Claude replied. His eyes were fixed on Lorenz.

“For some, maybe," Lorenz sniffed. “—If they were so myopic as to place their own influence above the needs of the Alliance. Your insight is lacking, Claude. Try again.”

Claude could feel his own smile growing into a grin despite his efforts as he tapped a finger against his chin in mock thought. “How about those old arguments we had during our school days? I distinctly recall you accusing me—in this very cathedral, no less!—of being ‘up to something’.”

Lorenz let out a soft laugh. “Foolishness long bygone, which you have already forgiven me for, I'll remind you.”

“I suppose then there is no reason left for you to hate me,” Claude sighed with mock disappointment. “Except for being jealous of my good looks, of course.” He winked at Lorenz.

Lorenz smirked and shook his head. “Now why would I be jealous of those? I'd say that I have the better view to appreciate them, between the two of us.”

Claude scoffed with amusement, letting his forehead fall to bump against Lorenz's shoulder. He was wearing a beautiful coat of black broadcloth—not his dress armor—over his noble's garb. A pattern of flowers had been embroidered in violet thread on the cuffs and lapels which seemed to shine when the light hit it just right. Claude breathed deeply, his heavy heart all at once filled with the warmth of love.

He looked up at Lorenz with soft eyes and whispered “C'mere, you,” and gently drew the man into a kiss.

It was not the first kiss they had shared, but even so Claude couldn't help the giddy rush of excitement. It was like the feeling of taking to the sky on wyvern-back, but so much warmer, so much deeper, his heart beating in his throat until he thought Lorenz must have been able to hear it too. Lorenz simply sighed happily into the kiss, wrapping an arm around Claude’s shoulder, his slender fingers gripping the fabric of his sash.

Claude let his lips part, and Lorenz took the opening with a fencer’s grace, his tongue darting in to taste Claude before retreating to nibble on the man’s wind-chapped lip. Claude hummed in delight. Lorenz’s mouth still tasted of the rich rose-petal tea he liked so much. It wasn’t really Claude’s thing, but if the only time he ever tasted it was when he was kissing Lorenz—well… He might end up acquiring a taste for the stuff.

Claude leaned deeper into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Lorenz’s shoulders for balance, and so that he could take his riding gloves off behind the man’s head. He let them fall to the floor, careless in his eagerness. Finally freed, Claude carded his fingers through Lorenz’s long, silky purple hair to cradle the back of his neck. His skin was warm under Claude’s hands, and if he peeked while they were kissing, he could see the flush blooming on Lorenz’s pale skin. Gorgeous.

He pulled himself closer to Lorenz, swinging a leg over the man’s lap so that they were no longer awkwardly pressed shoulder-to-shoulder anymore, but facing each other. Lorenz’s hand moved to Claude’s hip, steadying him slightly while Claude continued to play with his hair, his ardor unrelenting as they kissed and kissed and kissed.

“Claude— ” Lorenz mumbled, breathless.

The sun was almost set, leaving only the hazy glow of twilight to illuminate the crumbling hall. Claude kissed along Lorenz’s jaw, down to his throat, giving the man a chance to speak without cutting short the bout. “Mm?”

“Perhaps—perhaps we should be doing this elsewhere?” His Adam’s apple bobbed under Claude’s lips as he swallowed, trying to master his composure. “This isn’t exactly an appropriate place for…” Lorenz’s voice faded to silence as Claude settled his weight on to his lap and fixed him with a grin. Even the heavy fabric of his clothes couldn’t completely conceal Lorenz’s obvious arousal.

“My dear Lorenz,” Claude purred, their noses touching. “Since when have you known me to care about propriety?” His fingers twirled around a strand of hair near the back of Lorenz’s neck in a way he knew was distracting. He could feel the heat of his own desire pool between his legs.

“Rarely, but—” Lorenz hissed through his teeth as Claude pressed his hips down. He whispered in desperation, “We’re in the cathedral!”

“The ruins of the cathedral,” Claude corrected. “And alone, I might add. C’mon, Lorenz, it’s not going to kill you to fool around with me, is it?”

“This is supposed to be a holy place to the Goddess—” Lorenz protested.

“It’s not like she would disapprove if she was here,” Claude grinned as he kissed the shell of Lorenz’s ear, delighting in the trail of goose-bumps he had caused. “Didn’t you know that ‘the Goddess will never deny the splendors of love’, Lorenz?”

“Now you’re even taking scripture out of context! Claude, this is outrageous.”

Claude sighed melodramatically, resting his cheek against Lorenz’s shoulder as he embraced him. “Alright, if you’re so hung up on it. Perhaps I’d learn to stop my blaspheming if you showed me something I could praise her for but…” His voice trailed off as he rolled his hips eagerly against Lorenz before forcing them to still. “—No. I suppose it’s best we take the long cold walk across the bridge and back to our quarters, and part ways there.”

Lorenz had grown very still underneath him. Claude hid a grin behind the curtain of Lorenz’s hair as he sighed once more and delivered his parting shot, “We wouldn’t want our allies to think us up to anything inappropriate, would we?”

Almost immediately, Lorenz’s grip on his clothes tightened as he drew in a sharp breath. Claude felt an elegant hand roughly tangle into his hair, which pulled him up to meet the flinty gaze of the man under him.

“Was that a challenge, Claude von Riegan?” Lorenz’s voice was hot with frustration. His thighs trembled with the effort of keeping still.

Claude murmured against the man’s lips, “Do you even have to ask?”

“And your terms?”

Claude grinned. “How about we see if you can get me to praise the goddess for those hands of yours.”

“Done.”

Lorenz surged forward, trapping Claude’s mouth in a furious kiss. He exhaled heavily through his nose as he pulled Claude close to his chest, his warm hands seeking out any opening that would let him touch more than a sliver of Claude’s brown skin. Claude made a pleased noise in the back of his throat, happily tangling his fingers up in Lorenz’s hair once more. Lorenz responded with a muffled groan, bucking his hips up, no longer ashamed to let Claude feel his hardness.

Claude noticed he was panting, already grown flushed from the anticipation. Lorenz licked at his throat, and his breath stuttered. “Ah—You’re more hot-blooded than you let on, y’know.”

“Sadly even someone like me can fall victim to temptation.” Lorenz deliberately palmed the sides of Claude’s thighs, shifting his hands in a fluid motion to grope the generous curve of his rear, then thumbing his hipbones and trailing his fingertips over the top of his thighs.

“More like ‘thankfully’—” Claude cut himself off with a soft groan when Lorenz pressed a hand between his legs. Even through his clothes, the direct touch was so satisfying. Lorenz kissed him, rubbing his hand in time to the barely-measured breaths he took through his nose. Claude thrust back against the rhythm; the friction was tantalizing, but nowhere near enough. He practically whined when Lorenz pulled his hand away to mess with the buttons of his breeches—not that he would ever admit to it.

“How long have you been thinking about this—about me, touching you like this?” Lorenz had insufferable gleam of satisfaction in his eye.

“Now that’s an underhanded move,” Claude gasped. “You could at least have the decency to take my pants off before you ask me to spill my deepest secrets.”

Lorenz rolled his eyes in response. “Have some patience. It's not my fault you chose to wear so many layers today.”

His long, fine fingers dealt with the buttons of Claude’s breeches none too soon, and both of them breathed in unison as his hand cupped the naked heat of Claude's loins. Carefully, Lorenz pushed his fingers through the coarse curly hair ever so gently, until he reached the fat nub of Claude's sex. He rubbed it softly, between thumb and forefinger, keeping a careful watch on Claude's expression.

Claude’s grip tightened on the long violet hair with an involuntary jolt. Oh, that felt _good._ His face must have been red by this point, his lips burning and bruised from kissing for so long. He exhaled heavily against his lover’s neck, trying to focus only on the waves of pleasure that washed over him as Lorenz let his fingers trail away from Claude’s clit, tracing down the edge of his labia until he found the opening and gently probed within. Claude sighed happily.

“Tell me how it feels,” Lorenz murmured. Two fingers dipped inside Claude, ever so careful, ever so gentle.

“Good. Better than good. Ah—yes, there! Deeper, Lorenz.”

Lorenz obliged, pushing his fingers deep within Claude's sex, gently stroking and pressing until he found the spot that made Claude jerk as if lightning had coursed up his spine. Claude recovered himself enough to kiss at Lorenz’s neck and roll his hips into the touch, building a rhythm between their movements.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Lorenz said.

“Huh?” In Claude’s defense, Lorenz was somehow managing to thoroughly explore him with those two fingers while still keeping pace with Claude’s instinctive squirming.

“About if you had thought of this before.”

“Oh. I'll admit it's crossed my mind before... The cathedral is new, though,” Claude replied with a wink.

Lorenz shuffled to reposition his hand so that he could thumb at Claude’s clit while still rubbing his fingers against that wonderful spot inside him. Claude made a throaty noise of pleasure, distracted.

“Tell me more,” Lorenz prompted.

“About what? The naughty things I’ve thought about you when I’m alone late at night?” Claude felt that his usually flawless bravado was probably not quite that flawless at the moment. Still, he had to at least make an attempt to fluster Lorenz. “Pretty nosy of you to ask such an intimate question, Lorenz.”

“Claude.” The reproachful tone was mitigated by his panting. “You are in my _lap_. I think we’re beyond the question of intimacy.”

Claude chuckled. “You’ve got a point. I’d like to ask you a question first, though.”

“Go on,” Lorenz sighed and busied himself by kissing Claude’s shoulder while he listened. Claude had to take a moment to focus himself. It was harder to maintain his rapier wit while so distracted by Lorenz’s… everything.

“Have you ever done this before?” He asked, at last. His voice was more hoarse than he expected.

“Never…”

That was a surprise. Claude gave a breathless laugh. “Could have fooled me. You seem pretty at ease for your first time pleasuring a man in a cathedral.”

“I’ve never pleasured a man _anywhere_, Claude, much less in a holy place.” Lorenz’s voice was weak, but his gaze was strangely focused. How he could keep making Claude feel like he was burning up from the inside out with such small gestures was a mystery.

Claude blinked, dazed in more ways than one. “Really? …Then… You must be a natural at this.”

“It’s not so hard a thing to pick up,” Lorenz replied. There was that insufferable little smirk again. “All I have to do is observe your reactions.” He curled his fingers deliberately and Claude couldn’t help but gasp. Lorenz chuckled and kissed his neck. “Just like that.”

Claude groaned softly into Lorenz’s hair. The fingering was far more distracting than he had anticipated. Even given hours alone in perfect comfort, his own hands couldn’t make him shiver the way Lorenz’s were. Maybe it was the angle, or that his fingers were longer? Or was it simply that Lorenz in and of himself stoked some hidden flame inside Claude to a blaze just by his presence.

“Lorenz,” Claude panted. “Kiss me.”

Lorenz obliged, tilting his head back, his lips parted. Claude seized the opening. He needed to distract Lorenz so that he himself could stop being distracted by the man’s fingers. He gave a sharp yank on Lorenz’s hair, making him gasp into Claude’s mouth, and then pressed the attack with tongue against tongue. Not too harsh, just enough to taunt Lorenz into a riposte, and then Claude trapped him with a sensuous suck of the tongue, the gesture hinting at what else of Lorenz he could have in his mouth.

The rhythm of Lorenz’s hand faltered and Claude took the opportunity to catch his breath by pressing kisses to the pale column of his neck. “I think I’ve had enough of being selfish. It’s your turn now,” Claude murmured against his pulse, and tried to wedge his arms in between the two to paw at the tented fabric of Lorenz’s breeches.

“No,” Lorenz gasped.

Before Claude could pause to question, his head hit the pew as he was unceremoniously shoved out of Lorenz’s lap. Lorenz’s free hand had Claude pinned by the shoulder, the other, still slick, gripped around his thigh to hold him steady. Lorenz loomed over him, flushed and breathing heavily in the growing darkness of the evening. Claude hadn’t even noticed that the sun had set.

“Wha—”

“No, Claude.” Lorenz gulped a breath. “I’m not letting you get the upper hand this time.”

Claude was confused. Lorenz didn’t sound upset, but it was near impossible to read him with his face half-concealed by that curtain of stupidly soft hair. “Sorry?”

“Not that I’m opposed to the offer,” Lorenz said huffily, “but I know you’re far too skilled to be allowed to distract me yet.”

“You’re going to need to elaborate for me,” Claude said with a strained smile. “Cause I’m under the impression that you _don’t_ want me to return the favor?”

Lorenz tossed his head impatiently. He shuffled backwards on the bench, keeping Claude pinned in place by the hips. Understanding lit Claude’s mind ablaze like lightning as he felt hot breath wash over his sex when Lorenz bowed between his thighs.

“You can, and will, fluster me later, Claude.” Lorenz’s voice was firm, but hoarse with lust. “For now, I want to see you enjoy this.”

And without further warning, Lorenz’s mouth was upon his clit. Claude felt thunderstruck, back arching into the contact, thighs tensed like a bow at full-draw. Lorenz held him with surprising strength, fingertips dug hard into Claude’s skin while his tongue, so skilled at poetry, licked him from hood to hole and back again. Claude moaned, loud. His voice echoed in the open hall before he had the sense to muffle himself with a fist.

Lorenz continued, either unashamed or simply undeterred by it. Claude could barely describe the sensation. It was so _hot_. Hot tongue, hot lips, hot breath that set goosebumps on his thighs against the cool evening air. He had never felt anything like it. His body sang with pleasure when Lorenz drew the head of his clit in his mouth, and _oh._

“Oh, fuck. Fuck—_Lorenz!_” Claude was babbling. His fingertips brushed against the soft tresses, aimless but seeking contact. He didn’t even have anything to say.

Lorenz raised his head with some reluctance. His stickied hand returned to lightly massage Claude, not willing to grant him total reprieve, but at least it was less intense.

“Well?” Lorenz prompted, when Claude didn’t continue. “Do you think you could find it in yourself to acquiesce to my request, Duke Riegan?”

It took a moment to sink in, Claude was so scatterbrained, but when it did, he chuckled.

“I—I’ll concede…” He felt breathless and hot, his body still aching with a need to be touched. “For now, at least. Just—Goddess, don’t stop.”

“As you wish, your Grace.”

Claude didn’t see Lorenz smile, but he could feel it as he bowed his head once more. “And I’ll take that as my win.”


End file.
